Evening
by Mrs Maxim de Winter
Summary: It was a look that led to an evening. Oneshot.
1. Evening

Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer owns Artemis Fowl

Cecile swirled around, causing her frock to billow in a fashion her mother would most definitely deem unladylike, to say the least.

"How about this one?" she asked, turning to her sister.

Angie squinted, hand on chin, as if seriously deliberating whether to say yes. Cecile would make a tattered gunnysack look like Parisian couture. Incidentally, Cecile was wearing a short blue dress of the latter variety at the moment.

"The color is _perfect_ with your skin," the sales associate purred at Cecile. Angie could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes, but Cecile was scrutinizing her reflection carefully in the mirror.

"I suppose so… but I need the most _flawless _thing to wear for the gala next week," Cecile said finally, turning to the associate. The employee raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, and what is the occasion for this event?"

"Our father is being knighted," Angie cut in curtly, "Cess, I think I spotted a _lovely _lavender dress across the street at Chanel…"

"I suppose that lavender would be perfect!"

With that, Cecile quickly changed out of the three thousand franc gown, and she and her sister left the saleswoman silently cursing the existence of meddling little sisters.

*

"Do you think I'll meet _him_ tonight?" Cecile took the jeweled pin out of her mouth and inserted it expertly into the curled knot on the back of her head.

"And who would_ he_ be?" Angie turned and looked at herself in profile. She straightened her back and fluttered her eyelashes, giggling in anticipation.

"You know… _the one_? My potential husband? My life mate?"

Angie turned to her hopeful sister.

"There's a good chance of that… I've seen the guest list… so many potential _life mates _on it."

Cecile rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, Angie!"

"I am being serious!"

"Fine, then… name some of them for me."

"Hmm," Angie sat down on one of the de Vries dressing room's cushy loveseats, "There's James Poston…"

"Inconceivable! He must weigh at least two hundred pounds…"

"… and Philip Bramington…"

"Who has had clandestine affairs with all of my friends, married and single…"

"Alastair Dougal?"

"In love with his maid."

"Well then, there's just one more I can think of…"

"Who!" Cecile picked up a throw pillow and tossed it at her sister, who laughingly caught it and whipped it back.

"…Artemis Fowl." Angie smirked.

This name caused Cecile to pause. Pensively, she sat down in a jewel-toned armchair, head propped on hand.

"Artemis Fowl," she echoed.

"Heir to the criminal empire," Angie added. Then, she saw the way her sister was still peculiarly sitting in the chair.

"Are you alright?"

"Sorry? Yes, I'm alright. I was just thinking… Angie, if you saw him… well, you'll see him tonight. You'll know why I've been thinking about him so often… I had no idea his family was invited…"

Angie rose her eyebrows.

"You've been _thinking _about him? About that son of the _Fowl criminal empire_? Have you ever talked to him?"

"Talked to him? No, I've just seen him. And believe me, you will know why I think of him when you see him tonight…"

*

The gala was already full of Europe's most wealthy and high-ranking families when the guests of honor, the de Vries family, pulled up in a limousine flanked with two cars full of security personnel.

The knighting ceremony had gone as planned, a special event to honor Claude de Vries' achievements in biochemistry for the military. The gala celebrating the knighting was the highlight of the whole affair, however, with its lively music and wonderful dishes from all over the world planned.

Cecile and Angie stepped out of the limousine one after the other, and instantaneously dozens of flashbulbs exploded, leaving the ladies' eyes a blur of color.

Inside the restaurant that was converted for the party, the atmosphere was lively and colorful. Every woman had on a different hued gown, and all of the men's metals glinted in the rosy light.

Immediately, due to the crowd, Angie and her sister were separated. After being lightly jostled into the left of the room, Angie decided to make the most of her situation. She took a step closer to the wall and began to scan the room for those she knew.

Toward the left of the room she spotted Amelie and Louise Rominié, flirting with half a dozen young men and tossing their dark hair. In the center, seated and surrounded by guards, was the Queen of England herself, Elizabeth II. To the right, there was earnest young Richard Rolinds, talking to someone who Angie didn't know.

Suddenly, the second man turned around, and his eyes met Angie's.

It was as if she had fallen into a trance, or a daydream, of some sort. Angie felt her pulse quicken, but her breathing rate slowed.

His eyes were of a deep blue color, like the sky just after the clouds have cleared following a rain- a color that she had never seen before in eyes. Over his forehead fell dark hair, inky black locks that she could tell were soft even from her position across the way. His skin was pale, not in a sickly way, but in a way which suggested affluence. These features were certainly a lesson in extremes.

To Angie's astonishment, instead of turning again to his companion, the corners of the man's mouth turned up and he began to stride toward her.

*

They sat in a corner filled with lounge chairs. None of them had spoken yet.

Finally, the man ended the silence.

"I couldn't help but come over here."

Angie nodded, for she had nothing to say. Or could she not say anything?

He slowly reached his pale hand over and gently, ever so gently, touched her hand.

"My name is Artemis Fowl," he said in a low voice.

A pause.

"I'm Angeline de Vries."

Artemis Fowl's face broke into a full smile.

"Well tell me, Miss de Vries, how was the knighting ceremony? I've never attended one myself."

"I'll have to describe it, then, and you can call me Angeline…"

*

They talked for hours. While the occupants of the room danced, ate, and gave toast after toast, Artemis and Angeline simply spoke.

They talked of sports, of his love for polo and her old passion of ballet.

They mentioned their nicknames.

"My parents always call me Artemis, but my elder sister used to call me Timmy."

Angeline laughed, simply at the fact that the heir to a financial empire would be called Timmy.

"My parents and sister call me Angie, but now that just seems too childish…"

*

It was in the hours of the early morning, and Sir de Vries' gala was still in full swing.

The couple in the corner, however, began to feel restless.

After a few minutes of silence, Artemis spoke.

"Let's get out of here."

Immediately, Angeline's half-closed eyes shot open.

"What?"

"Let's leave," Artemis's deep blue eyes twinkled, "The night is young."

Angeline laughed. "Very well."

Artemis took Angeline's hand, and together, they slipped out of The Ivy and into the clear London air.

*

Inside the restaurant, Cecile turned away from the door and did not look back.


	2. Evening: Director's Cut

Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer owns Artemis Fowl.

_A/N: I thought it would be too long-winded and unnecessary to include the middle scene in the final story, but it gives a little more background for the story, so here you go._

Cecile swirled around, causing her frock to billow in a fashion her mother would most definitely deem unladylike, to say the least.

"How about this one?" she asked, turning to her sister.

Angie squinted, hand on chin, as if seriously deliberating whether to say yes. Cecile would make a tattered gunnysack look like Parisian couture. Incidentally, Cecile was wearing a short blue dress of the latter variety at the moment.

"The color is _perfect_ with your skin," the sales associate purred at Cecile. Angie could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes, but Cecile was scrutinizing her reflection carefully in the mirror.

"I suppose so… but I need the most _flawless _thing to wear for the gala next week," Cecile said finally, turning to the associate. The employee raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, and what is the occasion for this event?"

"Our father is being knighted," Angie cut in curtly, "Cess, I think I spotted a _lovely _lavender dress across the street at Chanel…"

"I suppose that lavender would be perfect!"

With that, Cecile quickly changed out of the three thousand franc gown, and she and her sister left the saleswoman silently cursing the existence of meddling little sisters.

*

Cecile was 22, and Angie was 17, and despite the age difference between the two, they meant the world to each other.

Cecile, however, was the true apple of their parents' eye. Born after four boys, she was, for five years, the veritable princess of the family. When Angie unexpectedly came along, it was as if she was the spare, almost unnecessary princess, and though she was loved by her parents, Cecile was unconsciously treated as the favorite.

Mr., and later _Sir, _de Vries, the girls' father, had a special place in his heart for his youngest child. She had a sort of charm about her that was hard to describe, almost a maternal nature. Often, especially when the girls aged into young woman and almost looked like twins, Claude de Vries forgot that Angie was the younger of the two.

They even were identical in looks. Both girls were blessed with considerable good looks, sporting long, fairy-tale like blonde hair and slender faces. It was in their eyes they were different: while Cecile had hauntingly clouded gray irises, Angie's were a warm, sweet brown.

*

"Do you think I'll meet _him_ tonight?" Cecile took the jeweled pin out of her mouth and inserted it expertly into the curled knot on the back of her head.

"And who would_ he_ be?" Angie turned and looked at herself in profile. She straightened her back and fluttered her eyelashes, giggling in anticipation.

"You know… _the one_? My potential husband? My life mate?"

Angie turned to her hopeful sister.

"There's a good chance of that… I've seen the guest list… so many potential _life mates _on it."

Cecile rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, Angie!"

"I am being serious!"

"Fine, then… name some of them for me."

"Hmm," Angie sat down on one of the de Vries dressing room's cushy loveseats, "There's James Poston…"

"Inconceivable! He must weigh at least two hundred pounds…"

"… and Philip Bramington…"

"Who has had clandestine affairs with all of my friends, married and single…"

"Alastair Dougal?"

"In love with his maid."

"Well then, there's just one more I can think of…"

"Who!" Cecile picked up a throw pillow and tossed it at her sister, who laughingly caught it and whipped it back.

"…Artemis Fowl." Angie smirked.

This name caused Cecile to pause. Pensively, she sat down in a jewel-toned armchair, head propped on hand.

"Artemis Fowl," she echoed.

"Heir to the criminal empire," Angie added. Then, she saw the way her sister was still peculiarly sitting in the chair.

"Are you alright?"

"Sorry? Yes, I'm alright. I was just thinking… Angie, if you saw him… well, you'll see him tonight. You'll know why I've been thinking about him so often… I had no idea his family was invited…"

Angie rose her eyebrows.

"You've been _thinking _about him? About that son of the _Fowl criminal empire_? Have you ever talked to him?"

"Talked to him? No, I've just seen him. And believe me, you will know why I think of him when you see him tonight…"

*

The gala was already full of Europe's most wealthy and high-ranking families when the guests of honor, the de Vries family, pulled up in a limousine flanked with two cars full of security personnel.

The knighting ceremony had gone as planned, a special event to honor Claude de Vries' achievements in biochemistry for the military. The gala celebrating the knighting was the highlight of the whole affair, however, with its lively music and wonderful dishes from all over the world planned.

Cecile and Angie stepped out of the limousine one after the other, and instantaneously dozens of flashbulbs exploded, leaving the ladies' eyes a blur of color.

Inside the restaurant that was converted for the party, the atmosphere was lively and colorful. Every woman had on a different hued gown, and all of the men's metals glinted in the rosy light.

Immediately, due to the crowd, Angie and her sister were separated. After being lightly jostled into the left of the room, Angie decided to make the most of her situation. She took a step closer to the wall and began to scan the room for those she knew.

Toward the left of the room she spotted Amelie and Louise Rominié, flirting with half a dozen young men and tossing their dark hair. In the center, seated and surrounded by guards, was the Queen of England herself, Elizabeth II. To the right, there was earnest young Richard Rolinds, talking to someone who Angie didn't know.

Suddenly, the second man turned around, and his eyes met Angie's.

It was as if she had fallen into a trance, or a daydream, of some sort. Angie felt her pulse quicken, but her breathing rate slowed.

His eyes were of a deep blue color, like the sky just after the clouds have cleared following a rain- a color that she had never seen before in eyes. Over his forehead fell dark hair, inky black locks that she could tell were soft even from her position across the way. His skin was pale, not in a sickly way, but in a way which suggested affluence. These features were certainly a lesson in extremes.

To Angie's astonishment, instead of turning again to his companion, the corners of the man's mouth turned up and he began to stride toward her.

*

They sat in a corner filled with lounge chairs. None of them had spoken yet.

Finally, the man ended the silence.

"I couldn't help but come over here."

Angie nodded, for she had nothing to say. Or could she not say anything?

He slowly reached his pale hand over and gently, ever so gently, touched her hand.

"My name is Artemis Fowl," he said in a low voice.

A pause.

"I'm Angeline de Vries."

Artemis Fowl's face broke into a full smile.

"Well tell me, Miss de Vries, how was the knighting ceremony? I've never attended one myself."

"I'll have to describe it, then, and you can call me Angeline…"

*

They talked for hours. While the occupants of the room danced, ate, and gave toast after toast, Artemis and Angeline simply spoke.

They talked of sports, of his love for polo and her old passion of ballet.

They mentioned their nicknames.

"My parents always call me Artemis, but my elder sister used to call me Timmy."

Angeline laughed, simply at the fact that the heir to a financial empire would be called Timmy.

"My parents and sister call me Angie, but now that just seems too childish…"

*

It was in the hours of the early morning, and Sir de Vries' gala was still in full swing.

The couple in the corner, however, began to feel restless.

After a few minutes of silence, Artemis spoke.

"Let's get out of here."

Immediately, Angeline's half-closed eyes shot open.

"What?"

"Let's leave," Artemis's deep blue eyes twinkled, "The night is young."

Angeline laughed. "Very well."

Artemis took Angeline's hand, and together, they slipped out of The Ivy and into the clear London air.

*

Inside the restaurant, Cecile turned away from the door and did not look back.


End file.
